


I Saw Washy Kissin’ Santa Maine

by whatthefuckisasweep



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: !!!, Christmas, Fluff, For a Friend, Holiday, Hope you like it :), M/M, Secret Santa, in which maine dresses up to help wash feel better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28334649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefuckisasweep/pseuds/whatthefuckisasweep
Summary: Wash is sad about the holiday season being bleak on the Mother of Invention. Maine wants to help.
Relationships: The Meta | Agent Maine/Agent Washington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	I Saw Washy Kissin’ Santa Maine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gracie_Girl87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracie_Girl87/gifts).



> For my secret santa gift to graciegirl! Hope you enioy!

Frost dusted the windows of the Mother of Invention - well, sort of. Despite the fact that they were floating in the middle of space (and so it was always freezing outside), the Freelancers had decided to get in the holiday spirit by placing frost decals on the insides of each of the windows. In the middle of the training room, there was a makeshift Christmas tree decorated with grenades and a Magnum Pistol for a star. Each of the agents were standing around the tree, taking the scene in. There they all were: York, holding a warm mug of cocoa while Carolina complained about taking time off, North and South arguing about Christmases past, Florida and Wyoming bantering, and of course: Wash and Maine standing side by side, quiet as usual. 

While Maine was always mostly silent after their Sarcophagus mission, Wash was simply awkward. He turned to his big counterpart, a little Santa hat dangling from his helmet. He had taped it on earlier and realized how stupid it looked a little too late. “Hey, big guy. You think the grenades are a little much?”

Maine grunted.

“Yeah! I mean, sometimes I don’t want to be reminded I’m being trained to be a human killing machine. We could have stopped at a Walmart or something, you know. There’s gotta be one on one of these planets - get a couple of ornaments or something.” 

North, hearing Wash’s comment, stole a glance at them and raised an eyebrow. “A Walmart.” 

“A Walmart.” Wash repeated. Maine seemed to nod along, as if he was in on this idea. “Then we could even get gifts for each other on the way, special ones, ones that  _ aren’t _ tomahawks or extra ammunition.”

“Freelancers at Walmart,” York chimed in sarcastically. “I can dig that. Full power armor on, buying ornaments and stuffed animals for each other, just like the Director intended.”

“Hey!” Wash protested, half jesting back. “I just want to get into the spirit, guys.”

“ _ Spirit _ is just another word for  _ distraction _ ,” Carolina replied coldly. “We aren’t ten anymore, Agent Washington. Let’s not lose sight of our goal.”

Wash sighed, slumping forward. “Yeah, I guess you’re right… We should get to working after breakfast, huh?” 

North gave him a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder. “Yeah. You rest up before training, okay?” 

With a tiny disappointed ‘okay’, Wash trotted off to his room to get some breakfast, Maine trailing not far behind. The two had always been close, with Wash enjoying the brute’s company and Maine feeling understood in Wash’s presence. Wash went over the breakfast list in his head - there were only a few options, and they were all unchanging. No Christmas ham, no turkey dinner, not even some gravy. He’d kill to have anything besides worthless MREs.

About halfway down the hall to his room, Wash changed his trajectory and started heading toward the lockers. Maybe it’d be better to take a shower first, take care of the locker room business and then head to his room to eat breakfast. It might wake him up a little more, maybe let his hunger marinate so he could down his food without feeling like he might hack it up later. He turned to Maine, still sounding a bit disappointed. “Gonna go shower. See you after breakfast.” 

Offering a small wave, Maine eyes traveled with Wash as he left for the showers, taking off his little Santa hat on the way. Anyone could see he was pathetically dejected. Little did Wash know Maine was hatching a plan... and this would be the perfect opportunity to put it in action. Heading down the snaky corridors of the Mother of Invention with silent footfalls, Maine eyed the rooms with the attentive fervor of determination. The hallway whizzed by, door by door, number by number. F300… F310… No, no. It was somewhere in the 320’s, if he remembered correctly. F319, 320…. F321. The ominous steel entrance was covered with a wreath, and a handwritten piece of paper hung from the side above the doorbell. “Meri Crissymas”, it read. Without hesitation, Maine rang the bell. He was definitely at the right place. 

After a loud clatter from inside, the door swung open with immense force. Maine wondered how many things broke after hearing the clatter. It nearly seemed like the trek to the door was intentionally destructive. He was snapped out of his thoughts as the cheery blond man with an ugly sweater in front of him started yelling in joyful pride. “I got IT-! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Wait, no- no… MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!”

There was a long beat of silence. 

Behind the troublemaker, two figures were looking at Maine with pure terror. They were both holding on to the man who opened the door, as if they were caught in the act of trying to stop him. The girl with a ponytail spoke up, laughing like each breath caused her awkward pain. “U-Uh, excuse M- Agent Iowa- He’s totally out of it, sir.” 

“Yeah! Like Ohio said. Super, super out of it. He’s got this brain damage that-”

“WOAH. You’re super big. Like Hulk big, like big big big. Ten times bigger than Idaho big! Like-” 

“Iowa!” They both warned through gritted teeth.

Amused, Maine simply pointed to the inside of their room.

Blinking a few times, Ohio let go of Mike and stood up straight. Suddenly, a bright excited sparkle shone in her eyes. 

“You… you wanna come - come in OUR room?” She squeaked, her voice raising a few octaves. “Ohmygoshohmygosh, of course, of course, Maine!”

There was something special about not being serious that made you understand Maine. 

“Are you going to kill us?” Idaho questioned, moving to the side and tugging Mike along with him. Ohio gave him a scolding look.

Maine just shook his head as he stepped in the now clear doorway, causing the ground to shake a bit with his weight. He wondered why everyone saw him as a killing machine - he was just like everyone else. Except… a freelancer, huge, and holding alien technology wherever he went. But regardless, so were they! 

With a great turn of Maine’s head, the Triplets could see he was looking around for  _ something _ . 

“What are you looking for, uh, Maine?” Her voice shook a bit. She wanted to look cool, and this big leaderboard guy needed something from  _ them _ . “Is it uh, like, a new weapon or something? You wanna take one of us on a cool mission? All of us?”

Unfortunately, she was ignored. Maine walked right past her. He spotted what he needed: a box, cardboard. Outfits spilled out of it, a pair of crooked neon sunglasses lay shattered at its side. The thing looked worn with use, a bit of water damage and scratches sustained over the years. With a silent huff, Maine lifted a finger and pointed at the box.

“You… want to use a costume from our costume box?” 

A soft purring noise indicated a yes. 

Ohio and Idaho looked at each other with confusion. “Uh- Which, which, um. One?”

Iowa butted in, throwing his hands up like that was the most ludicrous question in the universe. “Can’t you guys see? He wants to be SANTA! He’s super big and tough and magical. It works perfectly.”

“Santa…” Idaho said softly in contemplation, his helmet bobbing in agreement as he realized the sense of Iowa’s logic. “You wanna be Santa for everyone on the Mother of Invention this year?”

“He can bring us allllllll a-amazing gifts, like, uh, Santa. And his reindeer could be those cool AI thingies!” 

Well, maybe that was much more than he signed up for. Regardless, he still needed the outfit. He reluctantly nodded to this…. suggestion. 

And with that, Iowa began to dig through the box, throwing things out of it as he sorted and sorted and sorted until.... Voila! The outfit. Pristine. Claus-like. Perfect. Somehow, it was just the right size for a fellow like Maine. But as Iowa held up the outfit, there was something else Maine spotted in the corner of his eye. Something that would make his idea ten times greater. 

Back in the showers, Wash combed his fingers through his thick hair. Suds fell from his hands and down his cheeks as he closed his eyes gently. Showers always relaxed him in a way he couldn’t explain. His mind began to wander elsewhere: about what happened earlier. About the holiday cheer, about being told he was acting like a child. York, North, Carolina - hell, probably even Florida - they all thought he was a know nothing rookie, but Maine… Maine was agreeing with him. It always seemed like he did, but no one listened because he was quiet. But Wash liked quiet; it made him feel like he wasn’t alone and like he was being listened to. 

Maine. Wash sighed quietly. No matter how much he tried to push his feelings down for him, they resurfaced, like murderous cars during his missions. Maine was… caring, he was a big bear, a guy with a lot of heart, and not many people wanted to see that in him as much as Wash did. 

He remembered back when he first entered the Mother of Invention. He felt like he lost himself. He was not David: He was Agent Washington - the skilled goofy rookie - and everyone treated him as such. Everyone except Maine. Maine would listen to Wash talk about his cats at home, his sisters, his friends - hell, he’d even stick around to listen to his favorite songs and their connotations. To Maine, he was  _ Wash _ , not Agent Washington. It was addictive. Soon, his heart was flipping when Maine nodded in agreement and smiled softly to his rants. He felt a warm sensation come over him each time Maine expressed himself too. They confided in each other. Wash wasn’t sure he wanted to act on any of these feelings, because not only were they terrifying - but he doubted any reciprocity would come of it. He was happy to keep as friends and confidants. 

With that thought, Wash took himself back to the present. He had been in here too long, and if he wanted to keep his skin healthy, he should’ve probably stopped boiling himself alive in the showers. With a flick of a knob, the water ceased. He grabbed a white towel to tossel his hair in, droplets splishing and splashing across the tiled floor. Looking in the mirror at his own tired eyes on the way out, Wash gave himself a little smile to test it out - he forgot how he looked happy - and started to get his armor back on for breakfast. 

He didn’t get very far. Just outside the shower, he bumped into a soft (and fluffy?) obstacle. Shrieking an embarrassing amount, Wash flew back, arms flailing and ready to fight or run if needed. 

“GYAH!! Holy mother of-“ He looked up, hackles drawn.

“..”

Instead of an enemy… A big armored man looked down back at him, a festive red hat atop his helmet. A white puffball dangled from it, bouncing with jubilee. The big man chuffed, his Santa suited chest heaving up and down as if to laugh a joyful HO HO HO. 

Wash’s jaw dropped. “... Maine?! You scared the crap out of… Is that- are you- are you  _ dressed as Santa on top of your suit _ ? Where did you find something like  _ that _ on here?”

Maine growled.

“... The- Those guys? You seriously raided their costume box?” Wash couldn’t help himself from slowly grinning ear to ear as he walked in closer to examine the red and white costume. “Man, this looks good on you. Like it’s meant to fit. And it’s all… soft, warm- You even got the laugh down earlier. Aw man, thanks. This is…” His cheeks lit up dimly as his eyes brushed the floor. No one had ever done such a surprise gesture on the Mother of Invention. It was nice to be thought about again for once. “Sweet. Thank you.”

A beat of silence passed with no sounds or movements. Wash paused. He was expecting for Maine to do something; maybe just purr. He looked back at the man in front of him, forcing himself to take his eyes off the floor. “Uh, Maine?” 

Nothing. His eyes landed on his chest first. Then… up up up and — Why was Maine’s helmet off, why would he... and then, his eyes see it. Maine’s hand was above his head, dangling something green. Something green? 

_ Oh _ .

Mistletoe. 

It took a moment for Wash to process what this meant, and by then, he was beet red. Luckily, his helmet was on - but it wouldn’t be for long. After a little more stunned silence, Maine tapped Wash’s helmet with his free hand. An invitation. Did Maine know this whole time? Did he want this? Who told him? Did he tell him and forget? Was this just a joke? Was this all just about the Christmas thing this morning? Wash couldn’t stop his mind, he almost didn’t notice he was bringing his hands up without thinking, without breathing - he was operating on autopilot. Before he knew it, his helmet was off. Their height difference was almost a foot, so his gaze tilted upwards towards the man in front of him. Looking down back at him, Maine’s amber eyes scanned his face - which he knew was as red as the Santa suit now. A small cheeky smile faded on to the bigger man’s lips as he bent down and- 

Closed the distance between them.

Kissing Maine was surreal. It felt... right, even though he hadn’t kissed someone in years. With eyes closed, all he could feel was the warmth from the closeness of Maine and his lips on him, drawing him in closer. A hand pressed against his cheek, and he melted into the touch lovingly. He needed this.  _ He had been waiting for this.  _ Maine tilted his head as the kiss continued on, a deep purr rumbling throughout Wash.. 

A few moments passed and as they drew away for soft breaths, their foreheads touched. 

“Maine,” Wash uttered breathlessly.

Maine’s eyes fluttered down to his lips again, and then up to his eyes. Those loving, soft eyes. The ones that listened.  _ Wash _ . 

They stayed like that for a while: eyes locked, hearts synced, enjoying each other’s company. 

But like all things good in Project Freelancer, it ended too soon.

“Pf-” 

Wash quickly turned his head in shock to find York and North with cameras out. North swatted York for laughing, and then starting cracking up himself. Embarrassed, Wash squeaked out a ‘hey!’ followed by flipping them the bird. He was meaning to go after them but Maine wrapped his arms around him tightly before he could wreak any havoc. Unfortunately, this was even funnier to North and York. Wash looked like a tiny pouting toddler in the arms of a bear. 

“Bahahah- I’m sorry, man, but this is too good. Iowa told us about you guys taking the suit, and I came to see how ridiculous Maine looked, but this is ten times better, right Iowa?” 

From behind both North and York came a loud and happy cheer: “I SAW WASHY KISSIN’ S-SANTA MAINE!” 

And then North and York laughed again until their sides hurt.


End file.
